


come unstrap your broken wings

by somebraveapollo



Category: Benjamin January Mysteries - Barbara Hambly
Genre: F/F, Gen, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 19:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1481521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebraveapollo/pseuds/somebraveapollo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Rose, please." The call was low and panicked, and it startled her. Her skin prickled with an eerie half-recognition. But the voice was a woman's, and Rose had sworn long ago that her door would always be open for women who needed a place to be safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	come unstrap your broken wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lavode](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavode/gifts).



The knock on her door was frantic and incessant. It wasn't the pattern Hannibal used to identify himself - and Rose had no other regular nocturnal visitors.

At this hour, in the fever season, it had to be either someone who needed help or someone who meant harm. Rose had faced would-be intruders before – violent, disoriented drunks who were quickly driven away her scream and the quick response of her neighbours. But now the surrounding houses stood quiet. Those who could had left the city, the rest now stayed inside, hiding from the night air. She would have to fight, if someone broke in.

 _It could be Bronze John himself_ , Rose thought, _giddy with worry and exhaustion, announcing he’s come to take my girls away. No matter, I will fight him too._

"Rose, please." The call was low and panicked, and it startled her. Her skin prickled with an eerie half-recognition. But the voice was a woman's, and Rose had sworn long ago that her door would always be open for women who needed a place to be safe.

She let her in and shut the door, locking the night air out once again.

For a moment she suspected an illusion, caused by memory and the flickering candle-light. But then Cora - it was Cora - stuck her chin up sharply, just as she used to.

Rose extinguished the candle she was holding, and they embraced silently. It felt like Cora had not grown taller since they'd parted, and she was still skinny and restless, rearranging her arms around Rose several times without letting go. Rose rested her head on Cora's shoulder, pressing the candlestick awkwardly to her back.

Cora swayed a little against her, and Rose broke their embrace, and led her to the sturdy kitchen table where she had been composing letters to her students’ parents. Cora sat, terse as a cat. Her tignon was dusty, her face haggard. Rose wanted to sit beside her, to examine what had changed and what had stayed the same. But it was too dark for that; she needed to see Cora in the daylight. All Rose's memories of her were sun-lit.

Now she sat silently and stared at nothing in particular. Only her fingers were moving, drumming an erratic beat on the table.

“May I serve you dinner?” Rose asked, and she got a nod and distant smile, which was enough for now.

She put plate a plate of dirty rice right on her half-finished missive to Madame Pellicot. She would have to rewrite it tomorrow, to find a politer way of saying that Marie Neige was in immediate danger of dying.

Cora ate, and Rose refilled her plate readily. Antoinette hadn’t been able to eat, and Isabel had refused. Rose hadn't eaten much either, so she took a plate for herself as well.

“I never thought you'd learn to cook,” Cora said after they finished their meal. “You didn’t even know how to make coffee.”

“Well, ” Rose said, “I _can_ cook. But since I don't want to drive my students away or torture them, I hire a woman to cook for us." Cora's smile was brighter now and Rose squeezed one of her restless hands. "But I can make you coffee. It was the first thing I learned, at university.”

"Coffee's good."

Rose set to work, happy to have something to do. Her mind felt unclear, and her eyes hurt.

“You don’t have slaves?” Cora asked, and her voice was light but Rose turned toward her.

“We’re a poor school,” she answered, carefully.

“Sure,” Cora nodded. “No money in teaching girls, especially girls of color. It’s a wonder you kept a roof over your head.”

 _I would have bought you if I'd had the money,_ Rose thought, and bit her lips. It was true, but it was useless, and Rose had made the choice to live as she did.

All she said was, “We get along.” and Cora nodded.

Rose almost missed it when she asked “Have you got a husband?”

“You know I never wanted a husband.”

“I thought you might have met somebody in that school of yours, near as bright as you are.”

“It wasn’t – that wasn’t what I wanted.”

“No,” Cora mused. "You never wanted that."

The coffee was good, and Rose sank into the sensation of cradling the warm cup. She nearly missed it when Cora said, “That means it’s safe for me to stay here tonight.”

“Of course it is.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow,” Cora insisted, “m’not getting you in trouble.”

“Nobody cares about runaways in the fever season,” Rose said, which was perhaps an exaggeration, but Cora shook her head.

“There’s more – believe me, you won’t want me under your roof when I tell you.”

Rose considered the matter and lowered her spectacles to make herself look more severe. It was an old game of theirs, inventing outrageous crimes and fitting punishments. Rose's students liked it well enough, and she was sure Cora remembered.

"Did you steal something?"

Cora tilted her head, _it's possible_.

"Did you kill someone?"

Cora smiled, _maybe I did_.

"Did you set the whole place on fire?"

Cora shrugged, _they had it coming_.

"Did you blaspheme on a Sunday?"

"Oh no, never," Cora exclaimed, wide-eyed and grinning. "I'm not a _monster_."

"You are found guilty," Rose announced, "and your punishment is to stay here, for as long as you want and as long as I can help."

Cora nodded and hugged her again, and she did not seem quite so tiny anymore.

"I want a bath," she said. "I want to wash them all off."

Rose didn't want to think of all the memories Cora needed to wash away. She kissed her brow and said, "I will fetch the holy water," another old joke. "We can do all the necessary exorcisms right here."

"Will you wash my hair?" Cora asked, and Rose nodded, and still didn't let go. In a moment, she would have to find appropriate clothes for Cora. She would have to check on her girls and eventually she would have to sleep. But right now, she let herself hold on, and feel warm, and safe, and strong.


End file.
